Our spies reliably informed us that the police
had to be called to quiet down the opening party at Omocha,
Nakameguros latest cutting-edge café/bar. Resolved
to see what was causing such a commotion, we braved a drizzly
evening, and the possibility of further disturbances of the
peace, to keep ourselves locked into the grungy Naka-me loop.
The middle-of-nowhere location and amphitheatrical steps leading
down to the wide and low revolving door oozed Meguro-ku cool,
and, gleeful with excitement, we pushed where it said push
and shuffled inside.

Inside Omocha, every available surface was painted in peachy,
salmon-y shades with white designs stenciled over the top,
giving the quiet place a sickly prettiness. Far larger than
we had expected, the first floor seemed less than crowded
at first glance, but we were informed that there were no available
seats. The enormous apricot 16-seater table at the back had
clearly been reserved, and other tables were occupied by odd
couplesmostly mean-looking hip-hoppers and their diminutive,
wooly hat-wearing girlfriends all indulging in beer and cake.
A wooly hat-wearing waitress led us upstairs to the elliptical
bar (also in apricot).

With our backs to the all-glass DJ booth,
we pored over the menu, taking in the two-dozen types of tea
and vast number of healthy and wholesome dishes on offer.
We felt like going with the flow and ordered nama beers (\600),
although the modest selection of fruity cocktails had also
seemed appealing. As our Omocha peers all seemed to be eating,
we couldnt resist some niku-jaga (\300) from the daily
menu and radish and Kyoto-style fried tofu salad (\650). Both
were delivered with alarming rapidity to our spot at the counter
by another waitress also wearing a wooly hat. As we ate our
fill, and the night drew on, one or two more sophisticated
couples drifted in, joining us at the second floor bar while
the sounds emanating from the DJ booth turned a touch dreamier.
Later, we ordered the fried sweet potato open pie with vanilla
ice cream (\600). A very sticky little treat, the pie needed
washing down, and we hemmed and hawed over the teas before
plumping for chestnut milk tea (\500) and Muscat tea (\650),
both delightfully odd, steamy brews.

So stuffed we were hardly able to make it down the stairs,
our evening ended with a beaming Good night from
the super-cute staff, and we wandered out into the night,
wondering what excuse we could dream up to book that salmon
pink 16-seater table.